Allison? And why did her story sound eerily familiar?
Evan didn’t believe Damon had snatched Allison because nine months ago he’d still been with Ashley. The chances he’d been involved were slim. The idea made Evan shake until he lay back against the mattress in attempt to relieve his muscles. Who took Allison then? And how widespread was this drug problem?
He closed his eyes and pictured the sweet face of Ashley behind his lids. He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat every time he thought about her. He needed her. Perhaps more than he had before he’d confronted her. Did she suffer as much as him?
He was beginning to doubt the adage that time and distance would ease the pain. Each day his chest hurt worse and he lost more of his ability to concentrate on anything but her memory. If she’d been dead, that would have been another story. But his mate was alive and well, hiding out in her parents’ home from a boogeyman Evan intended to catch.
•●•
Damon stuffed his duffle bag hastily for the umpteenth time in months. Years, really. Why couldn’t he shake these bastards off his trail? He was careful. He always fled with nothing but what he could carry. He never left a trace as far as he was concerned. He took a bus most of the time to avoid using any identification.
Hell, he even used throw-away cell phones he smashed repeatedly and left behind with each move, ditching them in a public trash can.
“Motherfucking assholes,” he muttered to himself. If Ashley’s damn family hadn’t intervened, this never would have happened . Why couldn’t those fools have left well enough alone? If the bitch had ever gotten pregnant and produced some cubs for him, she’d have been much more inclined to stay by his side.
But no, Ashley had been stronger willed than he’d ever suspected when he’d first laid eyes on her. She’d fought him every step of the way and had never been the docile pleasant wench he’d been guaranteed the injections he’d given her would produce.
Now he was growing weary of all the moving around the country. It didn’t matter a fuck that he received a regular allowance in exchange for keeping his fucking mouth shut. He was bone tired from being on alert, and now he didn’t even have a woman in his life to take his aggravation out on.
If the fucking Romulus, his mysterious benefactor, didn’t come up with a new, more-agreeable mate for him soon, he had every intention of breaking any deal they thought they had with him and going it alone. They had stolen almost five years of his life with their fucking promises and demands.
When they had first shown up at his doorstep five years ago with a grandiose plan to make his life a field in paradise, he’d jumped at the idea. With no living relatives and no mate, their proposition seemed sound enough. He’d been separated from all other wolf shifters for over a decade. Not that he’d been hiding. Just that he hadn’t cared to attend the biennial Gathering and he’d lived quite far from any other shifters.
Damon zipped up the duffle with a jerk and stared at the second bag he carried everywhere he went. Maybe he should leave that motherfucking shit behind this time and make his own way in life. This particular existence wasn’t panning out well.
Surely he could go it alone and drop the fucking Romulus and their damn secrets and sleep better at night.
He plopped onto the bed and leaned his elbows on his knees, burring his head in his hands. That plan wouldn’t get him another mate, or return the one he had. Nope. He was fucking doomed to wait this out a little longer before he went rogue…more rogue than he already was.
After five years of working with these people, he still knew very little about them except they were very powerful with serious financial backing. Damon didn’t live well, for fuck’s sake, but he did live almost exclusively off the constant supply of money the Romulus sent him. Any odd jobs he managed
Evan didn’t believe Damon had snatched Allison because nine months ago he’d still been with Ashley. The chances he’d been involved were slim. The idea made Evan shake until he lay back against the mattress in attempt to relieve his muscles. Who took Allison then? And how widespread was this drug problem?
He closed his eyes and pictured the sweet face of Ashley behind his lids. He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat every time he thought about her. He needed her. Perhaps more than he had before he’d confronted her. Did she suffer as much as him?
He was beginning to doubt the adage that time and distance would ease the pain. Each day his chest hurt worse and he lost more of his ability to concentrate on anything but her memory. If she’d been dead, that would have been another story. But his mate was alive and well, hiding out in her parents’ home from a boogeyman Evan intended to catch.
•●•
Damon stuffed his duffle bag hastily for the umpteenth time in months. Years, really. Why couldn’t he shake these bastards off his trail? He was careful. He always fled with nothing but what he could carry. He never left a trace as far as he was concerned. He took a bus most of the time to avoid using any identification.
Hell, he even used throw-away cell phones he smashed repeatedly and left behind with each move, ditching them in a public trash can.
“Motherfucking assholes,” he muttered to himself. If Ashley’s damn family hadn’t intervened, this never would have happened . Why couldn’t those fools have left well enough alone? If the bitch had ever gotten pregnant and produced some cubs for him, she’d have been much more inclined to stay by his side.
But no, Ashley had been stronger willed than he’d ever suspected when he’d first laid eyes on her. She’d fought him every step of the way and had never been the docile pleasant wench he’d been guaranteed the injections he’d given her would produce.
Now he was growing weary of all the moving around the country. It didn’t matter a fuck that he received a regular allowance in exchange for keeping his fucking mouth shut. He was bone tired from being on alert, and now he didn’t even have a woman in his life to take his aggravation out on.
If the fucking Romulus, his mysterious benefactor, didn’t come up with a new, more-agreeable mate for him soon, he had every intention of breaking any deal they thought they had with him and going it alone. They had stolen almost five years of his life with their fucking promises and demands.
When they had first shown up at his doorstep five years ago with a grandiose plan to make his life a field in paradise, he’d jumped at the idea. With no living relatives and no mate, their proposition seemed sound enough. He’d been separated from all other wolf shifters for over a decade. Not that he’d been hiding. Just that he hadn’t cared to attend the biennial Gathering and he’d lived quite far from any other shifters.
Damon zipped up the duffle with a jerk and stared at the second bag he carried everywhere he went. Maybe he should leave that motherfucking shit behind this time and make his own way in life. This particular existence wasn’t panning out well.
Surely he could go it alone and drop the fucking Romulus and their damn secrets and sleep better at night.
He plopped onto the bed and leaned his elbows on his knees, burring his head in his hands. That plan wouldn’t get him another mate, or return the one he had. Nope. He was fucking doomed to wait this out a little longer before he went rogue…more rogue than he already was.
After five years of working with these people, he still knew very little about them except they were very powerful with serious financial backing. Damon didn’t live well, for fuck’s sake, but he did live almost exclusively off the constant supply of money the Romulus sent him. Any odd jobs he managed
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